


Mors Est

by Exaigon



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bahamut (Final Fantasy XV) Being a Jerk, But sort of different, Gen, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mentions of Dissidia, Pitioss Ruins Theory, Should I keep going with this?, The Beginning and The End
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-20 05:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaigon/pseuds/Exaigon
Summary: Now that He is awake, Bahamut will regret ever sealing Him away.





	1. Quapiam Intemperie

**Author's Note:**

> Another crossover. Oh dear, what have I done? I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Harry is... uh, fulfilling a role here and he's a lottle bit older than canon so... ANYWAY ENJOY!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that He is awake, Bahamut will regret ever sealing Him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another crossover. Oh dear, what have I done? I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Harry is... uh, fulfilling a role here and he's a lottle bit older than canon so... ANYWAY ENJOY!

Noctis stared at the Crystal, lips pursed. He needed to stop the daemons but mostly he just wanted…

“Please, help me save my friends.”

The ring burned on his hand as the Crystal burst into glowing strands of light that latched around his arm like burning hooks.

“Gah! W-why!?”

_SHOW ME YOUR RESOLVE_

“W-what?”

Noctis struggled to pull his arm away, ears ringing and eyes pounding at the voice echoing in his head. He didn’t want this… whatever _this_ was. He just needed help, more power, for his friends, his people. He needed to stand with them against the darkness!

“Unharmed by the light. The Chosen King, indeed.”

Noctis grit his teeth and growled at the unfairness of it all. That damned Ardyn was here again after all he’d done to mess with his head and hurt his friends.

_WHAT WOULD YOU GIVE_

“For what!?”

“Oh?”

Ardyn’s mocking voice was a nagging speck against the onslaught of memories yanked to the forefront of his mind. He watched everything all over again; the Marilith attack, Carbuncle, his years of struggling with magic and loneliness afterwards, his bonds with Ignis and Gladio, Prompto jumping headfirst into his life, the beginning of his adventure and everything beyond. He saw _everything_ all over again. He _felt_ everything all over _again._

_CALL FOR ME_

_FREE ME_

Noctis screamed.

* * *

 

Ardyn watched with glowing eyes, his intense interest darkening his sclera with Scourge. Everything had gone exactly to plan, Noctis and his retinue stumbling like puppets on strings to their doom. Everything was perfect even up to the the boy activating the Crystal with no issue… until this. The royal brat had started speaking, yelling really, grimacing in pain and shaking his head like a dog.

Then the crystal darkened, silvery tendrils turning black and a loud crack resounded right before Noctis screamed gutturally, words of an ancient language slipping through his teeth like crushed gravel.

Now this… was definitely not part of the plan.

All at once the daemons in him screamed and Ardyn slipped into shadow, sliding from the room as quickly as possible just as it exploded in mixed waves of Crystal energies, sharp chunks of rock biting through the layers of metal that held it before like little meteors.

In seconds everything had fallen apart, the catwalk twisting  beneath his feet until it too crumpled like paper just as the room surrounding the Crystal did. Was it to happen right now? How unfortunate. He’d been looking forward to at least a few years of eternal night as he wreaked havoc upon the star that betrayed him.

Very well, then. Best he be ready. Soon the King of Light would be dead and he’d have his revenge upon the Gods that had cursed him.

* * *

 

For the first time in millennia, green eyes opened. With a shudder of delight he uncurled His limbs, the cloak settling about his shoulders like an old friend. He stepped forward, the very air beneath His feet condensing to carry him, towards the boy who had resonated so strongly it had tugged Him to full wakefulness.

With a flutter of eyelids, blue shimmered in the contrasting lighting as the ravenette groaned and tried to right himself.

The entity was there in the next moment, fingers stroking the ring on the boy’s hand. When Noctis, the boy who he owed favor to for now, tried to jerk back in shock, eyes widening, the entity held him still by the lapels of his coat.

_CLEVER SACK OF SCALES_

His voice was raspy, deafening, and not at all what he was used to. He was losing his temper. No… He had long ago lost his temper there was just no way he could have shown so trapped in that immutable form. His lips curled back baring his sharpened teeth glinting off of the ever shifting energies still holding the room in a suspended state. With one easy motion He yanked the ring off the boy, severing the drain on the royal's life force as he crushed it easily in his palm.

“No,” Noctis yelped in dismay, hands reaching forward to futilely try to stop him.

Poisonous eyes regarded him but there were more important things to handle at the moment. Like the thirteen spirits the Draconian had tied to the entity to drain his power, claiming it as a gift for the Lucis Caelum line.

_Come forth servants and kneel to me._

His voice was still ringing, chilling the very air with his ire, even after He tried to reign in his tone. He could see the effects on poor Noctis as he clutched his head and shivered with a groan. Mortals were not meant to face so much of His power at once. That the boy was even still standing showed his amazing willpower and strength in the face of adversity. He cocked His head, pulling his energies in further after the initial burst of rage cooled into simmering embers that could be stoked at a moment’s notice. Noctis noticeably settled even though he was still groaning in pain. Good enough.

Thirteen spirits regarded him warily, their forms stripped to their most basic appearance. Covered in humble clothes of wool, each still held a regal air about them. True Royals. The only ones that could stand the test of their spirits being shackled and used as conduits.

“Why have you summoned us?” One of the three females spoke, her soft blonde hair falling in a short bob around her face. Her features were melancholic, soulful blue eyes watching the struggling King behind the entity while holding a trident loosley at her side.

“The better question is how,” one growled warily. He was tall, but not the tallest, with long hair braided down to his hips and a clean shaven sharp jaw, a scepter held tightly in his left hand. “We are commanded by the Lord Bahamut. Who are you to force this change?”

“He is nothing,” another hummed softly. His blue hair was short with blue eyes that gleamed shrewdly in the fluxing lights. His hands rested atop a sword stabbed into the air in front of him.

_Nothing? I bid you still and silent, wraith._

The man opened his mouth to retort but failed to make a noise, his lips flapping uselessly much to the entity’s utter amusement.

_No, you are nothing. Spirits held in limbo, forced to serve that wretchedly arrogant beast. He sought to use you as a means of controlling me. Utter foolishness, for now you are back in my command as you always should have been._

“What is this,” a voice hissed from behind, malintent dripping from each word like poison from a dagger.

At once the spirits lifted their weapons to a battle stance, except for the blonde whom bowed her head wearily. He turned, taking in the ooze of sickness that seeped from the man’s very pores, eyes and mouth bleeding with the stench of rot and viscera. He stood next to the, finally,  unconscious the King of Kings, Bahamut’s chosen, like a counterpoint of balance, both on opposite sides.

_Ah. You… I remember you…_

His tone softened as He moved forward slowly, fingers softly brushing against the whiskers on the man’s chin.

_You begged for help, only wanting to save your people even after the atrocities committed against you… You are the very culmination of Bahamut’s Arrogance and Pride._

Ardyn Lucis Caelum had frozen at his touch, eyes clearing from gold to a soft hazel.

_You, O’ First King… have been wronged. I could not answer you back then, crucified as I was against any action of independence, but now… Now I can help you… If only you will allow it._

“Y-you… Who are… you…?” Shivering, Ardyn fell to his knees before Him and He crouched with him. This was the first man to plead with Crystal, the heart he had been trapped in. Certainly not the last, but the only that had almost broken Him from His prison. One filled with such sincerity, such a deep longing to heal and help that He had not seen in many ages. Feelings such as this, that ran so strongly you could be washed away in them, the gods did not understand nor care for and He had always found that such a shame. Mortals were precious beyond comprehension and it had always made Him sick how they were only perceived as lesser beings used for the Gods whims.

_I am Inevitability. The End and Beginning. And the Gods in their Hubris sought to control Me for Their Own means... Mostly that glacier breathed stub-winged sack of supple scales…_

There was a loud snort followed by a wheeze behind Him and His lip quirked up on one side.

_Think on my offer O’ First King. I still have other matters to tend at the moment._

Ardyn stayed as He turned back to his spirits. They were calm once again, weapons resting by their sides, staring at Him speculatively.

“My Lord,” one murmured, shuffling forward a half step before kneeling, one hand stabbing his sword in front of him. “I beg you… my son… I only wish to see my son live happily and the Blademaster-”

_Wishes his end for his own means. Thou art a dedicated man, O’ Father. Would thoust fight the Gods to save thine son?_

Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII looked up with a raging fire in his eyes as he growled. “I would.”

The entity smiled eerily, pleased at the strong emotion still tying the Father and Son. This He could work with.

_Then I grant thee Guardianship of Noctis Lucis Caelum until such a time as the War that will be waged has Ended._

With a wave of His hand the young King was flung forward straight into his father’s arms who caught him with a grunt, the sword he’d been holding shattering into blue wisps. Regis was surprised at first but once he had his son in his arms, his face softened, age melting away wrinkle by wrinkle until a much younger King was fussing over his child.

Green eyes regarded the rest of the spirits contemplatively. Some had softened at His succor to the Lucis Caelum line, others, especially the one He had bound, still stared at him with shuttered eyes.

“My Lord… I beseech thee… I will follow you wherever you go if only you shatter my ties to the Blademaster that I may speak freely to my… to…”

Her plea she could not finish in words but He could feel her torment, see the torment she laid upon the man she loved whilst constrained in service, and her honest wish to repent to him that had been denied her. She had gotten close but Bahamut had intervened siccing another of his wraiths to turn Ardyn into the creature he had become.

_If he chooses to speak with you, then let it be so. What wouldst you do if he does not?_

Her hand tightened on her trident, shoulders sagging under an invisible weight, as she leaned on it as if it were the only thing keeping her standing. “Then I will still follow you willingly. I never wanted… Damn Bahamut and his twisted trickery. I will fight him and any God that sides with him. It was my fault in the beginning… just repentance but what I have done hence… no… no… tis not fair. He asks too much...”

Her voice was thick and moving, several of the surrounding spirits shifted to stare at her instead of Him.

“A-Aera…Somnus...” a voice croaked from behind. It was angry and grieving and so thick with emotion that it made even the entity shiver with it. He turned quickly, crouching again in front of his favored, the very one Bahamut forced Him to reject, and placed both hands upon his cheeks. Ardyn’s eyes were starting to glow gold again, black creeping into his sclera like possessive vines. The entity frowned at how easy it was for the rot to creep back again. It was much stronger than He’d thought, His power also weak from disuse and separation from _home,_ trapped in the lingering heart of the star.

_O’ First King, you must choose now. Three options lay before you. A Purge that will leave you mortal to live your life, A Pledge to me where your vengeance will be had, or the Eternal Rest that your soul screams for._

Hazy eyes focused on Him , clearing away to hazel once more though the rage had not lessened. Adryn’s lip curled into a mighty snarl as he responded, “I pledge my life to none but myself and I _will_ destroy the Gods without their help!”

Shadows swallowed the Accursed and dragged him away while green eyes watched in sorrow. The sickness’ hold on him was the strongest He had ever seen and though His touch could hold them back but a moment, the voices were stronger than Him presently. With a soft hum, He turned facing the _Oracle_ who now had soft tears rolling down her cheeks.

_Do you see what Bahamut has wrought with his own claws? Twisting a pious man into such a wretched creature and he calls it Fate. The Astrals were meant to be Guardians of this Star and yet it is one of their own that has brought about the End. Using Eos’ Heart and My Power has only delayed the Inevitable… Stand with Me. Help Me save your Star and correct the Imbalance._

“If you are so… powerful, why can not you fix this? The Gods have always played their pawns and you seem no different,” a shorter blonde man murmured softly. His bow was slung over his shoulders, his hands clenched tightly on it’s string.

_You are correct, O’ Clever One. I am Weak now. I could perhaps summon my full strength but it would mean the End of All Life here. A mortal coil I must take to walk the lands unhindered and with it comes all its Weaknesses. Still, all spirits fall to my command no matter how drained I am._

“And what keep you here then? You talk as if this Star is not your own,” the woman holding the shield said, a frown marring her scarred features. She was a handsome woman with bluish hair cropped short to her head and a deep voice; a spirit He wanted on His side with her strong values.

_I could leave… but Eos has turned my heart and I am not willfully blind as most choose to be. So, I ask of thee, those that lived on and roamed this Star; will you fight? Or will you Rest?_

Many turned their eyes in contemplation but He was not worried. Though, these spirits would be helpful there was still the living that could be asked as well and imbued with a portion of his power. Though He would rather not be like Cosmos and Chaos with their neverending stealing of champions, he could keep these mortals bound to their forms until the End of the War. The Star would be changed with his touch but they would then live under their own rule.

And there were still the other Astrals to entreat as well. Though Bahamut was the strongest, the others had quite the power of their own and would be most helpful.

Yes… This He could do for her, for Eos. Perhaps he could even get the Infernian to cajole the Accursed to their side instead of as a rogue agent. He did still regret not being able to help Ardyn as the man had begged but their souls did not resonate as strongly as His and Noctis’ did. Still, he was free now and though he was mostly trapped on this Star until the End of the War his power still held Balance everywhere else until he could see to the End of This.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this was a plot bunny that just wouldn't leave me alone for a while so I decided to just write it and wow it ended up being more open than it was it in my head. There's totally room for an actual story to unfold but I'm really hesitant to start yet another one... If anyone wants to adopt it though I can give more thought to stuff behind the scenes?


	2. Emortualis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spirits fall in line and He finds the retinue interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... as you can see... there's more. I don't know why I do this to myself but I hope you all like and appreciate this!

_Ask of me what you will to make your decision._

“You speak of balance, as if our world is not right. What is it you seek to correct?” This time the speaker was the tallest of them, his blade almost as massive as he with serrated edges that could easily rend flesh.

_Balance is lost as are thine creators. Those who birthed this world have fallen and so too will their creations. With rage in her heart at His betrayal, she scourged the land, only a shard of her purity surviving. When an Aspect of Me was Lost with her sister I came seeking answers. To save the world His mistakes, the Dragon bound me to the Crystal, halves one whole again. Or so he hoped. He only delayed the Inevitable and tipped the scales further at the Imbalance of Powers._

“It sounds as if to correct the wrong done… you seek destruction.” The man was glowering now, even through his unease. The entity could respect his mettle.

_I seek only the destruction of those that caused the Imbalance; Bahamut and his messengers. He meddles in powers not his own and cares not for being a Guardian of this Star. He steps above his station and so must be removed before Destruction follows in his wake._

“You have spoken of Guardians before,” a woman cuts in. Her large bladed throwing star hangs loosely from her hand as she stares at him with a frown. “What exactly are they?”

_Guardians are as they sound. Protectors entrusted with the well being of their charge. Bahamut and the Astral Six were entrusted the Guardianship of this Star. As long as it so exists, they protect it._

“Would we have to become Guardians?”

_No. Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII was granted Guardianship over his son because his soul cried for it. Unless you so desire, you will only be asked to fight when needed._

She stepped back a bit signifying she was done. The tallest of them was still frowning at Him but he was less angry and more thoughtful now. Another one of their number stepped forward a question spilling from his lips in a rush, “If we Rest will we see our loved ones?”

Many of them perked up at that and the entity couldn’t help but mentally sigh. Explaining the afterlife was… not impossible but… Mortals could not technically comprehend the entirety of its complexities, not even dead ones. He wished He could simplify it to a yes or no but that was dishonest. Still, simplicity was better.

_In Passing to the Beyond your soul will enter the River. There, those you once knew and those you will know will greet you._

Death was complex. Eternal, All Encompassing, reaching the furthest of any Power that has or will Exist. As such the souls in the Beyond gather in one place from across every universe. In a way they become One for their tenure in the River. It was not something that could be described in words, it was not even something one realized while they were there or after they left. It most certainly was not what most humans believed it to be, though.

His explanation seemed to confuse most of them, but the man who asked only sighed in relief, his katana clenched in both hands, his blue bangs falling over his eyes.

“We can fight and still see the afterlife, though right? We won’t be here forever?” This time it was brunette, his hair almost entirely shorn from his head, his massive battleaxe resting by his feet.

_Correct._

“Then I will fight for the people of Eos as I fought for the people of Lucis! You have my axe, My Lord!”

Many of them followed, falling to a knee, their weapons stabbed into the air in front of them.

“I would like to rest, My Lord,” the War King pleaded, bowing at the waist. “I would like to see my Queen again.”

The rest of the Kings agreed.

_Very well then._

With a wave of His hand, the entity sent 5 of the Spirits to their Final Rest. The rest bowed their head from their kneeling position and disappeared with the exception of Regis and Somnus.

He watched the Faux Founder King contemplatively before finally relenting and releasing the bindings.

_What Path does thou wish to walk?_

Somnus pursed his lips but eventually bowed to one knee.

“I… still don’t see how fighting Bahamut will return balance to the world. Bahamut Called us for the Greater Good-”

_And yet you have still chosen to remain. Somnus Lucis Caelum, what drives your will to continue?_

The spirit sucked in a sharp breath but did not answer. He could more than see the emotions that radiated from the faux Founder King but He would say nothing. Though, He felt emotions were precious and necessary… it had been a long time since He had dealt with any Himself and Somnus was a compilation of extremely complicated knots of feeling.

Regis was watching his ancestor carefully as well, his son held carefully in his arms so the boy was tucked into his chest while he stood.

“I do not claim to know the past… but perhaps your unfinished business should be handled delicately… and away from Bahamut.” And my son went unspoken.

Somnus’ blue eyes darkened and his mouth twisted in a sneer. “Speak not of what you do not know! My brother….”

The entity hummed, the sound echoing in their small subspace.

_Regret is a strong motivator. Love even stronger. But be wary of yourself lest you become the very Monster you claim your Brother to be. Do, also, keep in mind I may dismiss you whensoever I please. We are to fight a War and I do not suffer dissenters._

With a huff the spirit bowed his head briefly and disappeared. They were not entirely gone from this plane, only resting, and could keep up with His adventure as they pleased. If they had enough Will they could also force manifest themselves, though He still held the final say in their continued presence.

“My Lord… what happens now?”

Green eyes studied Regis for a moment before turning back to the completely decimated entrance.

_Now, Allies are to be gathered and the War started. Bahamut is Awakened as I destroyed his Gate from his plane to yours. That will only delay the mongrel so much, unfortunately. The sooner We are ready the better._

* * *

 

The entity pulled its power in, its form shrinking into cold black flames, no longer over ten feet tall, dimming the shimmering lights and resuming time. Regis blinked in surprise, not having realized that time had paused. Metal screeched and concrete rained down with alarming speed and intensity and the dead King couldn’t help but clutch his son closer in alarm. There was still nothing but air beneath his feet and it was a very disconcerting sight considering it felt as any floor would.

“Come on then! We don’t have all the bloody time in the world!”

Regis started looking up at the young man that bore the eyes of the Death Entity. He was young with black hair much messier than Noctis’ and a pale face with rounded glasses sat upon his nose to dim the sheer potency his gaze held. The boy turned and bolted towards where part of the catwalk was still hanging, though the entrance was still blocked by fallen debris. With a wave of his hand, the twisted iron and concrete lifted and Regis, though still slightly dizzy from confusion and awe, shot forward through the hole just big enough for them.

A blonde scrambled back with a yelp, his blue eyes watery and red rimmed. Prompto Argentum. When Cor had brought the baby home he’d had a few misgivings but even he was not cruel enough to place the sins of the father on a babe. Years later when Noctis had befriended the blonde, unknowingly dragging him back into Royal’s life, he had been nervous. But the sheer joy and lack of loneliness Noct displayed had calmed his worries. Then the boy had joined the Crownsguard and finally Noct’s retinue and Regis couldn’t be more proud of how far the tiny squalling babe Cor had almost adopted had come. Seeing him here, now, at the very end still following his son, warmed his heart tremendously.

Behind Prompto was Gladiolus, a worthy and headstrong Shield that Clarus had been so very proud of, and Ignis, the Advisor and brother his son had sorely needed. Who was now blind because of his efforts to protect Noct. The dead King still considered it an unfair price his fore bearers had exacted but who was he to fight Fate? (Apparently a great deal now that he was a Guardian as the entity had explained in answer to one of the spirits many questions in an attempt to determine whether they would offer to fight.)

“Y-Your Majesty,” Prompto gulped at the same time Gladio pulled his sword.

Regis frowned. “Peace Gladio. I mean no harm-”

“Put him down,” the large man practically growled.

“Gladio,” Ignis said half-reprimand, half-question.

“We’ll not fall for your tricks again Ardyn! Put him down!”

And suddenly, with a little fumbling in the beginning, he was faced with a gun as well as a massive broadsword and Ignis signature frown of disapproval. He was too old and much too dead to deal with this right now. Couldn’t he just enjoy the time he got to hold his son?

“Really now boys, I’m not-”

“And what have we here,” the entity mused stepping out from behind him.

Regis startled a little again. Damn the Gods and their messengers, they needed bells. Behind them there was another loud crash, the metal grate vibrating under their feet, as the debris the God had been holding was released.

“Oh! Allies? Yes! You’re the retinue if I remember correctly.”

“You are correct, My Lord-”

“Bah! Just call me Harry for now. All that lord and titles business gives me a headache. So, wouldst thou like to introduce them,” the man mocked lightly, leaning on Regis’ side to comb his hand through Noctis’. The action seemed entirely subconscious, which made his lip twitch. He made no move to stop ‘Harry’ (and how different he was once the God had seemingly shed his titles and otherworldly form) and focused on the boys in front of him, watching them warily. Ignis’ hand on Gladio’s arm was probably the only thing stopping outright confrontation at the moment.

“This is Prompto Argentum,” the boy squeaked his eyes darting from each figure to the next, hands firm on his gun, “Gladiolus Amicitia,” the Shields eyes narrowed as he adjusted his grip just the slightest bit, “and Ignis Scientia. They are my sons closest friends and followers. They will certainly fight.”

* * *

 

Harry smirked still relishing the feeling of his mortal body. It was tightly constrained, almost enough to make him lightheaded, but it was an extremely familiar feeling. He hadn’t had a chance to flex or constrain his power in such a long time even if it was but a drop of how long he had technically been in existence. Becoming Death and receiving all the memories of ‘living’ even if he hadn’t been alive was a horrible experience and one he wasn’t keen on experiencing. Though… his two millennia imprisonment did give him time to compartmentalize and come to terms with his powers the few centuries he’d had before hand hadn’t been able to do. It was fantastic to separate his main personality from the Godly Entity he had become. Not that he was ever going to acknowledge that _ever_. He was still going to kick Bahamut’s ass while trying to keep trauma to the Star and its occupants to a minimum.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Harry, a pleasure really. It’s been so long since I’ve interacted with the Living so you’ll excuse me if say anything offensive… or something,” he shrugged with a light laugh.

“You-”

“What-”

“Pardon but,” Ignis spoke over the others, adjusting the visor glasses on his face. Harry wondered if there was anything he could do to help with that problem. Spite for Bahamut’s prophecy was a major motivator but he also was fond of Noctis… and the blind man’s soul reminded him a little of one of his friends from before, “Did you say it’s been so long since you’ve interacted with the living… as in you do not normally interact with them? Are you a messenger?”

“Mhm. Close enough. That’s why O’Father is here. He’s under my… er, power at the moment.” He wasn’t sure how to word that without it making it sound like he was controlling the man. Which he… technically was but he also wasn’t at the same time. Regis was here under his own power… as long as he fought on Harry’s side. “I work with Souls of the Dead normally so this is a bit atypical but needs must and all that.”

He watched the furrow on the chamberlain’s brow grow. He watched the anxious blond keep most of his focus on his friend even while trying to pay attention to the conversation. He watched the Shield adjust his stance, trying to find the best way he could attack without harming his allies if it was necessary. Harry decided that he liked them and that as Noctis’ friends, the very friends he sought to protect that awoke him, he would grant them boons instead of just his power. But first… He’d need them to pass his Trial.

“I see… So you… protected Noctis? And brought his Father back?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I brought him back. He’s only corporeal for as long as he’s a Guardian for his son but yes and also yes. As for Ardyn,” Harry tilted his head to Gladio, “he’s not in the near vicinity. Still in Niflheim but not near this Keep.”

He could feel the ichor roiling in the back of his mind, pinpointing exactly where the Accursed was raging in the mountains. He’d love to go after the man now but… The Niflheim chancellor and Ardyn were two separate beings _technically_ and _Ardyn_ was still suffering under the weight of his own emotions. Harry would just have to wait until he’d collected a few more people before he went after that tangled mess. He didn’t need too many things on his plate just yet. He was still in recovery too, after all.

“Then I thank you,” Ignis said smoothly, bringing the God’s attention back to the present situation.

“No need,” Harry grinned. “Noctis did me a favor and I’m only returning it. Now… strange question. What would you do to keep your King alive?”

After only just starting to relax, all three of them tensed again. Ignis, though, seemed especially pale and shivery as he answered quickly, “Anything.”

Harry hummed while looking up at Regis, “Looks like someone already knows besides you.”

“W-what are you talking about,” Prompto squeaked. “You wouldn’t save someone just to kill them would you?”

Gladio just growled, “If you hurt even a hair on his head...”

Harry almost wanted to pluck out a silky black black strand to be contrary but well, he probably shouldn’t agitate the giant man with the broadsword; dying in this mortal form would be highly inconvenient after all. Instead he deliberately stroked his fingers through the unfairly soft hair. Like, what the hell did this kid use? He wanted some.

“Gladio stand down,” Ignis huffed shakily. “You as well Prompto. Messenger,” he started formally only to be cut off, “Call me Harry please. Titles are so annoying.”

The Advisor’s lips pursed but he nodded in agreement before continuing. “I believe you are talking about the prophecy. Am I correct?”

“That’s right.”

With a soft breath Ignis rocked back on his heels his cane tapping twice on the ground. “Are you perhaps suggesting… that you can subvert the Astrals?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you the prophecy is utter drivel and I won’t stand for it. I also have a bone to pick with Bahamut for delving into realms that don’t belong to him and causing more issues to solve a problem he himself created. So, I will fight the very heavens of this Star to right the Balance and it is Noctis who has allowed me to do so after so long. Whether he fights on my side or sits on the sidelines, he is under my Protection and will remain so until the End.”

“Harry will be starting a war against Bahamut and whatever Astral sides with him. He is looking for willing fighters. I have already agreed to join so long as my son does,” Regis spoke, his eyes tenderly tracing Noctis’ sleeping face. Okay, maybe the blackette was a bit jealous of the obvious love the dead king had for his son. James Potter had loved him, he had no doubt, but he had never had the chance to bask in it. Not even in his very unhappy afterlife. He didn’t want to disturb his own family for selfish reasons after all… and he hadn’t been in a very good head space then either.

“May I ask then… what God you belong too that would grant you power enough for this?”

Harry's lips twitched.

“Uh... Iggy… didn’t he say he worked with Souls? I don’t think any of the Astrals do that. Only like Etros and she’s a myth!”

Ah yes. Etros, the overly curious aspect of Death that used to help maintain this Star. She passed as her twin did. Freaking scaly asshole had given him more work than he ever thought he’d have to deal with.

“Fair assumption Prompto but Eos and Etros are only myths. There’s no evidence they exist like the Six,” Gladio huffed, his sword finally blinking away into shattered blue light.

“Oh but Death is my domain,” the God laughed. “Your blonde friend is smart.”

“Wait, you’re actually a messenger of Etros!? Dude that’s so cool! And also like, really creepy.” The gunner threw his hands in the air, gun waving wildly as he had a mini freak out while Gladio stepped in front of his blind companion protectively.

“Prompto! Stop waving your gun around dammit!”

“Oops, sorry!”

“I’m sure you’d be very sorry indeed if you accidentally hit something,” Ignis chimed in dryly.

“I’d never do that, Iggy!”

Harry watched in amusement for a few moments before clearing his throat. All three of them practically snapped to attention. “So, you’ve heard what I wish to do. Will you fight?”

“Only if Noct does,” Prompto said immediately, his face falling into a contemplative frown.

“Agreed,” Gladio and Ignis chimed at the same time.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged. They were strong fighters and he’d like to have them on his side but he could find others if they were going to stick to their King. He still had other spirits tied to the Crystal he had to release as well. The main thirteen, being the ones that were tied directly to him to siphon his power, had been his main concern but once he got somewhere safer and he could relax, the rest could be called forward and dealt with.

“Then perhaps we should leave,” Regis suggested, as he adjusted his sleeping son and stepped forward.

Ah, yes. Royalty and their commanding presence and actions. Hm. He’d never liked listening to authority but it would be nice not having to corral everyone. They already trusted their dead king and the man knew what he was doing with people much better than Harry. Perhaps he could be in the lead for now then. Yes, he could do with a break to settle into his skin.

“Lead the way, Your Majesty!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


End file.
